14/05: Re:evolution
A couple of months ago we spent a very agreeable day at the Houston Museum of Natural Science, where Lucy had taken up temporary residence.
Being parents of a scientific background, with our feet planted firmly in the Natural Selection camp, this was an ideal opportunity to discuss evolution, mutation, natural selection, origin of life and so on with Jess. None of that 'creationism' or 'intelligent design' claptrap in THIS household, thankyouverymuch. Somewhere along the line we seem to have delved into genetics. Jess is fascinated by the fact that she is able to roll her tongue, though I can't.
Anyway, I'm digressing a little. Four and nearly-a-half year olds don't have the same developed concept of time as adults. Jess knows how long a minute or an hour or day or a week, but beyond that she's struggling. People fall into 3 age categories - children, grown ups and "really old" people. She can understand that Granny and Gramps are her Daddy's mum and dad, but even though she knows that they were once children, she just can't get her brain around it. I imagine it's a bit like the problem I have trying to visualise infinity.
She's been thinking about this whole evolution shebang a lot recently, , and came down to breakfast the other day and announced that "Granny and Gramps used to be blobs. Then they were fish. Then I think they were lizards and alligators and dinosaurs and stuff and then they were monkeys and apes and ate a lot of bananas and then they grew into Real People".
Might need to do a bit more work on this one.
Being parents of a scientific background, with our feet planted firmly in the Natural Selection camp, this was an ideal opportunity to discuss evolution, mutation, natural selection, origin of life and so on with Jess. None of that 'creationism' or 'intelligent design' claptrap in THIS household, thankyouverymuch. Somewhere along the line we seem to have delved into genetics. Jess is fascinated by the fact that she is able to roll her tongue, though I can't.
Anyway, I'm digressing a little. Four and nearly-a-half year olds don't have the same developed concept of time as adults. Jess knows how long a minute or an hour or day or a week, but beyond that she's struggling. People fall into 3 age categories - children, grown ups and "really old" people. She can understand that Granny and Gramps are her Daddy's mum and dad, but even though she knows that they were once children, she just can't get her brain around it. I imagine it's a bit like the problem I have trying to visualise infinity.
She's been thinking about this whole evolution shebang a lot recently, , and came down to breakfast the other day and announced that "Granny and Gramps used to be blobs. Then they were fish. Then I think they were lizards and alligators and dinosaurs and stuff and then they were monkeys and apes and ate a lot of bananas and then they grew into Real People".
Might need to do a bit more work on this one.
Today was Mother's Day in the America.
Many will have received home-made cards (I did).
Many will have received flowers (I did).
Many will have been taken out for lunch (I was).
Some may even have received a hand painted plate (I did).
But I bet there aren't many mums who got one of these today (I did).
Many will have received home-made cards (I did).
Many will have received flowers (I did).
Many will have been taken out for lunch (I was).
Some may even have received a hand painted plate (I did).
But I bet there aren't many mums who got one of these today (I did).
02/05: As the germ in a seed grows
Driving back from an evening with friends...
Jess: Mummy, my tummy hurts.
Me: What's wrong? Do you need the toilet?
Jess: No. I think it's got an egg in it.
Me: *puzzled* Egg? But you haven't eaten any egg.
Jess: No, Mummy. A tummy egg. Silly.
Me:...
Jess: It feels really big. I think it might be an ostrich one. *starting to panic a little* I think it's too big to come out of my mouth OR my bottom.
Once we got home I tucked Jess up in bed with a hot water bottle and reassured her that she'd feel much better in the morning. Of course, being a Mother and All Knowing, I was right.
Me: How's your tummy egg this morning.
Jess: Hmm. It's all better now. I think it must have got scrambled or something.
Special prize to whoever gets the title connection first. If I don't eat it before then.
Jess: Mummy, my tummy hurts.
Me: What's wrong? Do you need the toilet?
Jess: No. I think it's got an egg in it.
Me: *puzzled* Egg? But you haven't eaten any egg.
Jess: No, Mummy. A tummy egg. Silly.
Me:...
Jess: It feels really big. I think it might be an ostrich one. *starting to panic a little* I think it's too big to come out of my mouth OR my bottom.
Once we got home I tucked Jess up in bed with a hot water bottle and reassured her that she'd feel much better in the morning. Of course, being a Mother and All Knowing, I was right.
Me: How's your tummy egg this morning.
Jess: Hmm. It's all better now. I think it must have got scrambled or something.
Special prize to whoever gets the title connection first. If I don't eat it before then.
29/04: Dressed in Yella
I arrived to collect Jess from school a little early the other day, just in time to overhear a conversation with her teacher.
Jess: My mummy makes me wash all the floors.
Teacher: Really?
Jess: Yes, I have to do it on my hands and knees. And she gives me bread and water for my tea and makes me sleep in the cupboard under the stairs.
Teacher:...
Jess: And one time I was going to go to a party but she ripped my dress up and said I wasn't allowed to go.
This was where I stepped in and pointed that in fact we had been playing Cinderella that day.
*waits nervously for the call from Child Protection Services*
Jess: My mummy makes me wash all the floors.
Teacher: Really?
Jess: Yes, I have to do it on my hands and knees. And she gives me bread and water for my tea and makes me sleep in the cupboard under the stairs.
Teacher:...
Jess: And one time I was going to go to a party but she ripped my dress up and said I wasn't allowed to go.
This was where I stepped in and pointed that in fact we had been playing Cinderella that day.
*waits nervously for the call from Child Protection Services*
19/03: Six months in a leaky boat
We've made it through the first six months since our arrival in the US. In that time we've bought 2 cars, a house, a huge TV and numerous other things that work in America but probably won't work in the UK. We've painted several rooms, but still have lots more to do. I have grappled successfully with American plumbing and wiring. I still don't have a Social Security number. Our cars remain undented, which is a miracle for anyone living in Texas.
Jess has started school and loves it. She's leaping ahead in reading to level 5 of 'Peter and Jane' (Peter is still climbing trees - there's speculation in this house that he grew up and changed his name to Swampy). She does sums 'for fun' (gets that from her Dad) and knows more about American history than I do. She's starting to sound Texan.
Geoff is at home more than he has been in years, though neither of us think that will last very long. He's bucked the trend and lost over a stone since we moved here. Jess says she thinks it may be down the back of the sofa.
And Emma? Remember that little baby that slept in a suitcase when we first arrived here? She spends her days chatting - 'Daddy', 'Jess', 'No', 'Peepo' - and cruising around the furniture. She's turning into a bit of a water baby.
The boat may have been a little bit leaky when we arrived but it's weathered the storms and is sailing into calmer waters.
Here's on for all you General Knowledge eggheads out there...
My friend and neighbour is a member of a local book club. It's her turn to choose a book, and she has selected Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice. For some fun, she's planning to host a proper English tea party. This is where you lot come in.
What should the tea party be like? I'm pretty certain Mr. Kipling wasn't in business then, so the option of getting some of those luminous coloured French Fancies from the local expat shop is out. Which traditionally english cakes were around in the late 18th / early 19th century? Are there any which are local to Hampshire, where Austen lived? What other essentials should there be?
*an extra invisible prize to the person who correctly identifies the song and TV show this lyric comes from.
My friend and neighbour is a member of a local book club. It's her turn to choose a book, and she has selected Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice. For some fun, she's planning to host a proper English tea party. This is where you lot come in.
What should the tea party be like? I'm pretty certain Mr. Kipling wasn't in business then, so the option of getting some of those luminous coloured French Fancies from the local expat shop is out. Which traditionally english cakes were around in the late 18th / early 19th century? Are there any which are local to Hampshire, where Austen lived? What other essentials should there be?
*an extra invisible prize to the person who correctly identifies the song and TV show this lyric comes from.
19/02: Over 18s only
Adult: Jess, would you like some of this chocolate? *offers bar of Green and Black's milk chocolate*
Jess: No thank you, my Mummy says that chocolate is just for grown ups and it doesn't taste very nice.
*pause*
Jess: You can have some of my nice kids' chocolate if you like.
Jess: No thank you, my Mummy says that chocolate is just for grown ups and it doesn't taste very nice.
*pause*
Jess: You can have some of my nice kids' chocolate if you like.
Jess had a lot of trouble getting to sleep last night - she finally nodded off at 10pm. I thought she'd be out for the count until morning, but she came downstairs again at around 4am.
Jess: (stage whisper) Mummy, can I have a cuddle?
Me: Mrumph?
Jess: I had a really scarey dream.
Me: What was it about?
Jess: It was about a chip. And it had lots of KETCHUP on it.
Jess: (stage whisper) Mummy, can I have a cuddle?
Me: Mrumph?
Jess: I had a really scarey dream.
Me: What was it about?
Jess: It was about a chip. And it had lots of KETCHUP on it.
06/02: Rollin', rollin', rollin'
It's rodeo season and we're in Texas. Need I say more?
05/02: Bennie and the Jets
Our house in America has a jacuzzi. To be honest, I'm not that overwhelmed by it. The jets are a little... powerful, and you have to be very careful when you turn it on that you don't give yourself an unintentional self administered enema. The one good thing about it is that threatening to turn it on is guaranteed to get Jess out of the bath.
Yesterday, in a fit of domesticity (it won't last) I decided to have a go at giving the pipework a good clean, in the hope of dealing with the black gunk that it produces whenever we turn it on. Also, Jess had emptied two cans of squirty soap into the bath the night before, and I had a feeling that they might not be doing it too much good either.
One of the programs we get on BBC America is 'How Clean is Your House' - what this does for the USA's image of us Brits I don't know. The fact that it is preceded by Gordon Ramsey and followed by 'You Are What You Eat' can't help much either. Anyway, one of Kim's (or possibly Aggie's, I never know which is which) top tips in a previous episode was to use dishwasher tablets to clean out jacuzzi pipes. You fill the bath with hot water, put in half a dozen tablets, swish to dissolve, then let the jets run for half an hour or so to dislodge all the gunk. Sounds easy.
Bath was duly filled, tablets added and swished, and the ON button pressed.
Nothing happened.
Actually, that's not quite true. There was quite a bit of whirring, but no jets. Just as I was contemplating the fact that two cans of squirty soap had probably well and truly gummed up the works, physics took hold and the jets magically unblocked themselves with such explosive ferocity that two walls, the floor, parts of the ceiling and myself were drenched in a veritable tidal wave of foamy water. Emma, watching events from the doorway, thought this was hilarious and squealed and clapped in the hope that I'd repeat the trick.
It's lovely and clean in our bathroom now.
Yesterday, in a fit of domesticity (it won't last) I decided to have a go at giving the pipework a good clean, in the hope of dealing with the black gunk that it produces whenever we turn it on. Also, Jess had emptied two cans of squirty soap into the bath the night before, and I had a feeling that they might not be doing it too much good either.
One of the programs we get on BBC America is 'How Clean is Your House' - what this does for the USA's image of us Brits I don't know. The fact that it is preceded by Gordon Ramsey and followed by 'You Are What You Eat' can't help much either. Anyway, one of Kim's (or possibly Aggie's, I never know which is which) top tips in a previous episode was to use dishwasher tablets to clean out jacuzzi pipes. You fill the bath with hot water, put in half a dozen tablets, swish to dissolve, then let the jets run for half an hour or so to dislodge all the gunk. Sounds easy.
Bath was duly filled, tablets added and swished, and the ON button pressed.
Nothing happened.
Actually, that's not quite true. There was quite a bit of whirring, but no jets. Just as I was contemplating the fact that two cans of squirty soap had probably well and truly gummed up the works, physics took hold and the jets magically unblocked themselves with such explosive ferocity that two walls, the floor, parts of the ceiling and myself were drenched in a veritable tidal wave of foamy water. Emma, watching events from the doorway, thought this was hilarious and squealed and clapped in the hope that I'd repeat the trick.
It's lovely and clean in our bathroom now.
